Charles frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I would hate to spread gossip," Wainwright said hesitantly.
"I'll not say a word," Charles told him leaning towards the table. "My only concern is Miss Beatrice's well-being."
"Her father, Baron Taltham, spends much of his time gambling in the clubs. He seems rather flush these days but in the past, he has been in quite deep. He has taken in several loans in the past the covers losses."
"I see." Charles trying to imagine what it would be like to have a father who was so ridiculously irresponsible. His own father was completely the opposite, responsible and trustworthy to a fault. Even pushing his children to be the same.
"Unfortunately, Miss Beatrice’s mother is not any better."
"No?"
"No, she is overbearing and blames Miss Beatrice for many things that are not her fault. From what my sister has said, Lady Taltham has been rather horrible to miss Beatrice, criticizing her for not snagging a husband. Apparently, Lady Taltham thinks her daughter will save them from their plight."
The irritation that Charles felt earlier was being replaced by concern. "Perhaps Miss Beatrice is wanting the same."
Wainwright shook his head. "Normally, I might think so but no, not in this instance. I do not envy you, my friend."
"I suppose we will have to keep an eye on Mr Townsend."
"I will do what I can before I leave England."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Back to the Peninsula?"
"No. India."
"India?" He had not expected that answer. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “What takes you there?”
"I will be working with the East India Company, training soldiers for the army there."
Charles knew that Wainwright did not get along with his older brother or his father. It was not surprising that he was seeking a position elsewhere. "I hope it is a good position for you to go so far from home."
"By the time I am done, I will be swimming in large," Wainwright said with a big smile.
Charles smiled. "Sounds wonderful. Hopefully, I will find something as good."
Wainwright refilled their whiskey glasses. "Why not India? There are more positions open that you are more than qualified for."
Charles thought about his father and replied, "Maybe I will."
Chapter Thirteen
"Oh, good you are up already,” Lady Taltham said happily.
"Good morning, Mother," Beatrice said.
"Good morning, Lady Taltham, can I get you anything?"
"Some tea and biscuits, please," her mother said evenly.
"Yes, ma'am," Ruth nodded and left the dining room.
Beatrice had already eaten her breakfast and was just finishing her second cup of tea.
"Beatrice, I must say that I am very pleased that your evening at Almack’s went so well."
"Thank you, Mother." She was not sure why her mother was pleased but Beatrice was happy her mother was not yelling or scowling or complaining.
"It seems that Andrew Townsend is quite enamored with you." The older woman smiled and blinked slowly.
Beatrice’s heart sank. "I do not know about that, Mother. I think I am merely a friendly face."
"No, it is more than that."
"Besides I danced with several other gentlemen at Almack’s, as well." Lieutenant Repington came immediately to mind, she could still feel the warmth of his hands as she had the night before.
"Yes, you did," Mother agreed. "Mr Townsend is a good match, though. He is the second son of the Earl of Marlsfeld."
Beatrice only nodded. There was nothing she could say to deter her mother, though the thought of having to marry Mr Townsend made her mouth go suddenly dry.
Mother went on. "Lord Marlsfeld holds an immense piece of entailed land and is quite influential in Parliament."
Beatrice frowned. "Mr Townsend is the second son though. Surely he will be pursuing a gentleman's profession and that was not to your liking if I recall."
"Yes, he would be, but the earl’s heir has fallen deathly ill."
"Oh, how horrible," Beatrice gasped.
"It really is," Mother agreed. "He is not likely to survive and that means your Mr Townsend will be the earl one day."
Beatrice was horrified by her mother's excitement over the possible death of the elder son of the Lord Marlsfeld.
Before Beatrice could say anything her mother suddenly announced, "We will be going for a carriage ride this afternoon. Please wear your best dress!"
"I will." Beatrice said, simply happy that her mother had planned something for them to do together.
"We will be going to Hyde Park for the fashionable hour. I am hoping you can hold on to whatever magic you had from last night. We must capitalize on anything positive, you know."
Beatrice immediately admonished herself for thinking her mother had any good intentions. Their carriage ride was all part of the quest for a husband, not because her mother wanted to spend time with her.
Beatrice finished her tea and then excused herself, wanting nothing more than to get away from her mother and be alone again.
Chapter Fourteen
"You look very nice," Lady Taltham noted when Beatrice came downstairs.
"Thank you," Beatrice replied in a flat, uninspired tone.
As they went out the front door to get into the waiting carriage her mother said, "Now remember to be jovial. Not too quiet, but not too loud."
"Yes, Mother." Beatrice stepped into the carriage turning to the footman. "Thank you, O'Brien."
"You are welcome, miss," the older man nodded with a smile lighting up his blue eyes.
"Thank you," Mother said curtly, dismissing the footman.
He nodded at Beatrice and then pulled himself up into the driver’s seat.
"Now when you see Mr Townsend make sure to show your interest, but please try to be demure."
"Yes, Mother," Beatrice said automatically them paused as her mother's words soaked in. "What do you mean, when I see Mr Townsend?"
The carriage had already pulled into Hyde Park when her mother finally answered. "Yes. Mr Townsend sent a note to the house this morning. It was an invitation to take a ride during the fashionable hour."
Beatrice was furious. "You accepted the invitation without asking me and also did not tell me that you had done so?"
"There was no need to,” her mother said smoothing back a strand of hair. "Do not be disrespectful. As I told you yesterday we have been brought to this point by your lack of action in the matter. I am doing what needs to be done."
Beatrice stayed silent, seething. She was far too angry to speak without causing a public argument.
She could not believe her mother had accepted the invitation and the realization that she had done so before even speaking to Beatrice this morning in the dining room. It was one more way that her mother had hurt her. One more reason for Beatrice to not trust her mother. She was certain she could not trust her father, either. It was clear that there was no one that cared about how Beatrice felt or what she needed. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on her.
"Mr Townsend, hello," her mother said suddenly. Mr Townsend had pulled his carriage alongside their own.
"Good afternoon, Lady Taltham," he said quite cheerily. "Hello, Miss Beatrice."
"Good afternoon, Mr Townsend," she greeted him politely, but did not meet his eyes.
"You two have a nice afternoon," her mother said prompting the footman to come help Beatrice from her carriage to sit with Mr Townsend in his more fashionable curricle.
Mr Townsend smiled at her briefly as he guided the horses back onto the path. "I was very pleased to get your reply this morning."
"Thank you for the invitation." Beatrice had wanted to tell him to thank her mother, but she held her tongue.
"We had such an enjoyable evening last night at Almack’s that I wanted to make sure we were able to see each other again soon."
Beatrice looked away feeling more mis
erable than she could remember. "That was very considerate of you."
"Lord and Lady Alderside are having a party at their London residence next week. A recital for Lady Sarah and her sisters." He looked over at her waiting for her reply.
"How nice," she replied thinking it actually sounded rather awful. Beatrice had been to a number of recitals that had all been awkward afternoons listening to girl sing in wretchedly high voices or plinking what seemed like random keys on the pianoforte.
"I thought you would enjoy it." His smile was smug when he turned to her and said, "That is why I told Lady Alderside that you would be attending with me."
Beatrice could not believe what she had just heard. "Thank you, that was very… kind of you. I will have to check with my mother to be sure that we do not have another engagement."
A frown formed on his face. "Surely, your mother would understand."
Beatrice could see that Mr Townsend was getting frustrated which made her even more uncomfortable. Nervous, even. That is when she realized he had driven the carriage off the main path onto a path that would go deeper into the park.
"Mr Townsend, could you please stop the carriage? I think I shall like to walk for a bit."
"No, we are here at the park for a carriage ride."
"I apologize but I am not feeling very well at all. Please stop the carriage."
He took some time to think about it but finally, Mr Townsend pulled the curricle to a stop. In most circumstances, social propriety demanded that she wait for him to help her down from her seat. However, the thought of him touching her made Beatrice want to be ill so she jumped down before he could get around the carriage to help her.
"You really should have waited for me to assist you," he told her sternly.
"As I told you I do not feel well," she reminded him. "I simply wanted to walk."
"Well, it is the fact that you are ill that indicates even more that you should have waited."
"Mr Townsend,” Beatrice stopped to look at him. “It has already been done. I cannot go back and change it now."
"That is true, but I think it is important that you understand what you have done wrong. I cannot expect you to learn if I do not correct you."
Beatrice let out a frustrated cry and before she knew it she had turned back down the path heading back to the busier part of the park.
"Miss Beatrice, where are you going?"
Beatrice did not stop. She simply called back over her shoulder, "Home, Mr Townsend. I am going home."
"But you cannot. We are taking a carriage ride."
She had reached the main path and continued walking toward the path to Grosvenor Gate. Suddenly, Mr Townsend was right in front of her.
"You must go back to the carriage," he commanded.
"No, Mr Townsend. Thank you but no."
"Miss Beatrice, you must listen." He took her by the elbow and began to turn her around.
"No! Let go!" She protested his tight grip on her arm. "You are hurting me."
"You need to listen. You will not learn unless you do as I say." Dragging her back toward the carriage.
"Let me go," she cried out again.
"Excuse me, Townsend. I believe Miss Beatrice has asked you to release her."
Beatrice nearly cried with relief when she recognized Lieutenant Repington’s voice.
"Repington! This does not concern you," Mr Townsend said continuing to pull her down the path.
Beatrice held her breath praying that the lieutenant did not listen to Mr Townsend Then, suddenly Lieutenant Repington was standing on the path in front of them.
"I beg to differ. I could hear the young lady calling out from a good distance. I would hate for it to get out that you were attacking ladies in the Park.
Mr Townsend blanched and then a look of fury passed over his face. He let go of Beatrice's arm so fast she almost fell down.
"Yes, of course. Forgive me."
Beatrice stepped away from him afraid that he would change his mind and grab for her again.
"Miss Beatrice, I look forward to seeing you soon. Good afternoon." He bowed curtly before shooting a glare at Lieutenant Repington and walking away.
"Are you all right?" Lieutenant Repington asked coming to stand next to her.
"Yes," she answered quickly. "I am shaken but I am unharmed."
"I have my carriage parked over there or I can walk you home."
"Do you mind walking?" Beatrice did not think she could bear to get in another carriage.
"Not at all." He gestured towards the path.
They walked in silence for a minute or so.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I am not sure what I would have done had you not shown up."
"You are quite welcome. I only wish I had gotten here sooner." He shook his head.
"Please do not be upset," she started, her voice cracked and to her horror, she began to cry.
"Oh, Beatrice, do not cry," Lieutenant Repington said quickly turning to face her.
"I am so sorry," Beatrice said trying to compose herself.
They had stopped right behind a large oak tree. Beatrice was trying to calm herself, but she was much more shaken by Mr Townsend that she admitted.
"Oh, you are shaking," Lieutenant Repington said. In the next instant, she found herself enveloped by his strong arms. Beatrice knew that she should step back, if anyone saw them they would be in trouble, her reputation ruined but she could not. It had been the first moment of kindness she had felt since she had left Castborough. And she began to cry again.
"Shush, now. You are safe now," he said soothingly.
They stood there like that for a moment until she finally stepped away.
"Thank you," she whispered and began to walk down the path again.
"You are most welcome." He fell into step beside her and then handed her a handkerchief.
"Oh," she said. "I must look a fright."
He looked over at her and shook his head. "Not at all, you look beautiful, as always."
Beatrice nodded and swallowed, and tried not to cry again.
Chapter Fifteen
"Remember to smile."
"Yes, Mother," Beatrice answered for what must have been the twentieth time that day. "Please remember that Lady Alderside sent you a personal invitation at Mr Townsend's request."
"Yes, Mother." It was bad enough that Beatrice was being forced to attend Lady Sarah's recital, she would not only see Mr Townsend also it would be necessary to be polite and gracious to him.
She was grateful for her long gloves, as they covered the yellowing bruises that still lingered above her elbow. Feigning a headache Beatrice had been able to bow out of any social events, over the last week. While it was true that she did not want anyone to see the discoloured spots on her arm she was more concerned about seeing Mr Townsend again. His behaviour at the park had been extremely upsetting.
In their earlier conversations, Mr Townsend had seemed nice except for his peculiar habit of telling her how she should act and feel. Beatrice had thought perhaps it was nervousness on his part. After witnessing his reaction when she chose to disagree with him, she knew it was much more than that.
The door to the Alderside house opened and Beatrice steeled herself to deal with Lady Sarah, and Lady Judith surely would be there as well.
"Miss Beatrice!"
Being looked up quickly not expecting anyone to be overly excited to see her. She was even more surprised to see Henrietta hurry across the room.
"Lady Henrietta!" Beatrice exclaimed. "I cannot believe you are here."
"Oh, Miss Beatrice, I am so glad you're here. I thought it was going have to endure this all on my own."
"I was fearing the same," Beatrice admitted. "When did you arrive in London?"
"At the beginning of the week," Henrietta exclaimed. "I had hoped to see you at Almack’s on Wednesday."
"I was feeling ill and missed most of my social engagements." Beatrice looked around to make sure her mother was not listening
before she said, "We need to find a quiet place so we can talk."
They were all led out to the garden where many stone benches and several ornately decorated wooden chairs had been set up. Henrietta quickly guided them to a bench in the corner of the garden half hidden by a trellis of climbing flowers.
"Beatrice, what has happened?"
"There is so much to tell I am unsure where I am to begin."
"You left Castborough less than a month ago. I cannot believe so much has happened."
Beatrice knew that her friend was not doubting her, she was truly confused and upset for her.
"Must you sit over here in the corner?" Lady Taltham spat at her. "You will never get a husband sitting off by yourself."
"Good afternoon, Lady Taltham," Henrietta said leaning forward to be seen around the trellis.
Beatrice’s mother looked horrified for a moment before her face adopted a serene look once more. "Good afternoon, Lady Henrietta. I did not realize you were back in London."
"We just arrived from Castborough a few days ago. We were all invited to see Lady Sarah's recital."
"Oh, are Lord and Lady Castborough here as well?"
Henrietta smiled. "Yes, I believe they are speaking with Lord and Lady Alderside."
Beatrice’s mother began to look back toward the house. "I should go speak with them."
"Yes, of course," Henrietta replied.
Beatrice stared down at her hands. "I apologize for my mother. She..."
"Beatrice, there is no need to apologize. The words were not yours," Henrietta assured her. "I know that there have been difficulties in recent months."
"No," Beatrice said. She had not planned on saying anything but her mother's embarrassing words were too much. "My mother is awful. I can do nothing right. She is critical of everything that I do."
"Beatrice, you do not—"
Beatrice shook her head and held up a hand to stop her friend. "She thinks I am incapable of finding a husband. She complains that I am too quiet, and when I tried to be more gregarious she said I was bellowing like a goose."
"Oh goodness," Henrietta said covering her mouth with her hand and the nervous giggle that she could not stop. "Oh, Beatrice, I am so sorry."
A Hero Returns Page 5
